Stitching It Back Together
by 19RosesofLifeandDeath98
Summary: Cameron and Kirsten trust each other, they do. But this stitch is different than anything they've prepared for. When it leaves Cameron's Iron Lady broken, lost, and terrified, he'll do whatever he can to pick up the pieces. Camsten. Angst, fluff, vulnerability, protection, the good stuff.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey there, home fries. This is my first Stitchers fic but I have totally fallen for the series so I'm really excited about this. Hope you enjoy!**

 **Disclaimer: Stitchers ain't my thing. As in I don't own it. Trust me, its TOTALLY ma thang.**

 **Warning: Mentions of murder, kidnapping, and rape.**

"Jackson Royce," Maggie says distributing a file to everyone at the table, "Parents divorced when he was eleven. They shared custody until his mother died of alcohol poisoning a year and a half later."

Cameron glances briefly at Linus for a reason he isn't sure of. Linus averts his eyes quickly from the file and settles his gave into his folded hands.

"When he turned fourteen," she continues void of expression," Royce ran away from his father's home in Palo Alto. He'd taken $1,400 out of the family safe and smashed every single window in the two story house. His infant half-sister was left there alone for two days until Royce's father and step-mother returned home from a trip."

"Sounds like he didn't care for his family much." Camille says tightly, her jaw locked in an aggressive line.

"He didn't." Maggie says flatly before pulling a document out of the file.

It was a photo of what looked like some high school sport team. Cameron counts twelve girls in white and blue jerseys. They were so young. He doesn't like where this was going.

"Two months ago," Maggie goes on, "the Rockley Area High School's girls' lacrosse team was on a bus ride to their regional match. The bus driver pulled over to help a man lying next to a totaled car."

"Bus driver gets out," Kirsten interjects robotically, "checks to see if the guy's unconscious. Turns out he's very conscious and wielding a gun. He steals the bus along with the girls."

"Close," Maggie meets her eyes, venom in her stare, "He shoots the driver before climbing into the bus and shooting the team's coach and assistant coach."

Cameron turns and looks at Kirsten with a sullen expression. To his surprise, there's a similar look in her eyes. They aren't striking or - he dare say - captivating like usual. Their dull and hurt.

"How do we know he's our man?" Camille asks.

Maggie shifts her cat eyes from Kirsten and says, "There were cameras in the front and back of the bus. Police got the footage when the tracked the bus down to a vacant parking lot outside of L.A. Royce and the girls weren't there. The trail's been weak ever since."

"Until now," Kirsten says quietly.

"Yes, until now." Maggie looks uncomfortable, "Royce was found in an alley early this morning. Alcohol poisoning."

Cameron grimaces at the sick irony. Kirsten leans forward in her chair.

"You want me to go into his memories and find where he's keeping the girls."

Maggie nods. Cameron meets Kirsten's eyes again, his brows knitted with anxiety. This stitch will be different than any other. Kirst has only ever seen memories through the eyes of a victim. She'd felt pain, grief, rage even, but there was an underlying innocence to all of it. This stitch wouldn't have that. They'd be putting her in the mind of a killer. _He'd_ be putting her in the mind of a killer.

He wishes he could see some reserve in her copper eyes, but there is none. She's fierce, ready for work as always. She doesn't even respond, practically launching herself out of her chair to change and prepare for the stitch.

He's tense as a spring the entire time he's prepping. He has to focus, Kirsten _needs_ him to focus, but he can't keep his mind from wondering what kinds of things she'll see. What will she feel inside the memories of a murder, of a kidnapper? He doesn't want to know. He doesn't want _her_ to know.

"Hey," her voice pulls him to the present, "are you ready from this?"

His throat is so tight he can only nod.

As Kirsten descends into the tank, Cameron takes the last second to come up beside her and say, "I don't want you in there a moment longer than you need to be. The second you feel something-"

"Hey, genius," she says putting up her hand, "no perception of time, remember?"

He stares at her blankly, "Alright, Tinman."

As he turns to walk away she says, "Hey, Dorothy-"

He rolls his eyes but can't fight a smirk.

"It'll be fine. I'm in good hands."

Her trust mad him want to punch something. Cameron gives her a stiff smile before returning to his station. He hooks the com-link around his ear and is annoyed to notice that his hand is shaking a little bit.

"Alright people are we 'go' for stitching?"

Each scientist sounds off and Cameron's stomach slowly begins to drop.

"We are 'go' in three… two… one."

 _Give 'em hell, Wonder Woman._

0o0o0o0o0o0

"Talk to me, Ruby. What do you see?" Cameron says pacing the lab.

Kirsten shakes her head, "It's a basement. I see the girls. I see- they're all here. They're so-"

Her body jerks violently.

"Kirsten, what are you seeing?" his hands ball into fists, knuckles white.

"He's getting out of his car. It's red. Macklin Avenue." her words are coming out in quick breaths.

"Camille," Maggie begins.

"On it." she says throwing herself onto her keyboard.

"Oh God," Kirsten whimpers, squirming in the tank, "oh God."

"Heart rate is sky rocketing!" Ayo exclaims.

"Kirsten!" Cameron says approaching the tank, "Do you need to bounce? Kirsten?"

"He's-," her voice sounds choked, "I can't. He's- oh God."

"Cerebral temp's 105!"

"Kirsten we have the address! You can bounce! Make the bounce!" Cameron's voice filled with panic.

"No, no, no!" she's cries, "Oh God- Lexi!"

She's trashing and gasping in the chair.

"I'm pulling her out." Cameron growls, storming over to his monitor.

"You can't," Linus cautions, "we passed the two minute mark seven seconds ago."

"Damn it," he hisses, "Kirsten bounce out of there, now!"

"Lexi, she's-"her lip is quivers as she types feverishly into the keypad.

The motor in front of Linus glows with a bright red ERROR.

"What?" Linus stares at the screen, "No, not Lexi, Kirsten. You need _your_ name. Kirsten?"

Cameron's ears are ringing as he runs at the tank. He grips the edges of the glass right beside her head.

"Kirsten, please," he's begging, "Kirsten just type your name, c'mon."

Up close, he can see the tears streaming down her face. He can hear how labored her breathing is.

"Lexi," she whispers in a cry.

"No, Kirsten." he says, forcing his voice to stay even, "I need you to type your name, Kirsten. K-"

Her finger trembles over the key.

"I-R-S," he says, willing her hands over the keypad.

"T-E-N," she says with him.

"And who do you heart, Kirsten?" he sucks in a breath.

"Linus," she sighs.

He sprints over to his desk and detaches everything from the stitch. It feels like a bomb's been dropped in the center of the room, silent shock waves pulsing out over the lab. Cameron can't think of a clear thought, his feet are just moving, trying to get to her.

Kirsten screams as she opens her eyes. They're red and wild. Her fingers dig into the top of her scalp and she buries her face in her knees.

"No, no, no, no," she drivels.

She's shaking so hard. Cameron flings himself at the tank. Ayo is reaching for her, but as soon as she touches her, Kirsten explodes. Before anyone can react, she grabs the rim of the tub and heaves herself out. Her feet slide on the tile floor and she's flailing to keep her balance.

"Kirsten," several people say in unison.

Cameron takes a step toward her, hands only wanting to feel her. When her eyes finally stop racing across the room and meet his they grow even wider. There is so much pain in them it make Cameron's chest ache.

"No, please," Kirsten says backing away from him, "please don't!"

He feels the wind leaves his lungs like he's been punched. The way she was looking at him, the _terror_ in her face was enough to make him hate himself without reason.

Without another word, Kirsten races around the mob of lab techs, ignoring Maggie's blunt commands to stop. She vanishes behind the warped glass of the door. It slams shut and Cameron feels it reverberate through his entire skeleton.

"Kirsten!" Maggie calls, making a move toward the stairs, "Kirsten!"

"No!" Cameron blocks her path, slightly shocked by the force of his own voice.

He surveys the room and sees that Camille, Linus, Ayo, and a few other techs have begun to move after her. Now they stand perfectly still, like statues under his stone gaze.

"Leave her alone." he says clearly, "I've got this."

He moves around the computer monitor, ignoring the stunned, silent stares that follow him. He hesitates before he takes the first step. The fear in her eyes, the raw anguish was unlike anything he'd ever seen Kirsten feel. And she was looking at _him_. What was his plan once he met up with her? What could he say or do that would help her?

He didn't know, but he knew he couldn't let her go. He wouldn't wait and do nothing while she suffered. She was not Marta and he would not fail her as he had before.

0o0o0o0o0o0

He follows the trail of water to the employee bathroom in the far back of the facility. His footsteps are slow and careful, trying to make as little noise as humanly possible. It was like approaching a wounded animal. When he comes face-to-face with the door, he holds his breath, listening only for Kirsten.

Heavy sobbing seeps out from under the door. Though it sounds choked, as if she was trying to keep anyone from hearing it.

Cameron debates whether or not he should knock, or more over whether or not he should even be here. He decides to suck it up and do what Cat Woman would do. Rip the Band-Aid off fast.

The door handle is cold and his fingers trembles slightly at the contact. Relief spreads over his muscles when he finds that it isn't locked. He doesn't force the door open. He lets its own momentum carry it with an annoying creek.

Kirsten stands hunched over the countertop, eyes boring into her reflection in the mirror. Her chest is still heaving and her arms shake as she holds herself up. She doesn't acknowledge him at all so Cameron simply stands in the doorway watching her.

After a few moments, she finally says, "Lexi, she looked like she was the youngest. She was so small."

Cameron tenses at the name, Kirsten's screaming replays in his head.

"She had green eyes and light brown hair." she says still staring into her own face, "Her jersey was torn and her arms were bruised. They were all bruised. He hurt all of them!"

Her voice crescendos and rises up over the bathroom walls. Cameron takes a few ginger steps onto the linoleum, arms tense at his sides.

"You saved them, Kirsten." he tries to say calmly, "Fisher's going to find them and it will all be because of you."

She shakes her head forcefully, bringing her nails up to claw at her blonde scalp. Cameron's chest tightens with concern and he reaches for her but she jumps back.

"I felt," she gasps, "I saw their fear but I felt what he felt. I felt the _pleasure_ and the _satisfaction_ , Cameron. He was proud. They were screaming and he was smiling. It's morbid! It's so wrong, wrong, _wrong!_ "

That was all she could take before she collapsed to the floor, face buried in her hands. Cameron's arms are around her in an instant, locking in place like fasteners on armor. Kirsten struggles weakly but he only holds her closer. Soon she stops fighting, the only movement in her body is the quaking of her shoulders as she sobs into his chest. Her fists clutch helplessly at the fabric of his shirt as it quickly becomes damp; she's still soaking wet.

Cameron closes his eyes and murmurs into her hair, rocking slowly. He doesn't know why he's doing it, but it feels right.

They remain like that for a long time before Kirsten speaks again.

"I can't go back in there." she says keeping her face in the crook of his neck, "Please don't make me go back in there."

"Never," Cameron breaths without hesitation, "You are never going back in there, Kirsten. _I promise_."

She whispers what may be a "thank you", but it's too weak to make out. Her arms unfold and weave around his body, pulling herself even further into him. She listens for his heart, feeling it beat against her cheek. Using it as her anchor. Kirsten tries to harmonize her breathing with it.

 _Inhale, bah bum, bah bum. Exhale. Bah bum, bah bum._

When her shoulder finally stopped shaking Cameron felt himself unwind a little. He didn't dare disrupt the silence. He wasn't sure when it would ever be like this again, but for some reason he was hopeful that day would come. An image can unannounced into his mind.

It was Kirsten. She wasn't dripping wet in her stitchers gear or sobbing into his shoulder – not to mention mentally scarred for life. She was warm and smiling, sunlight running cross her face and shining through her hair. She was still enveloped in his arms but she was lying beneath him, golden tendrils spread out across light blue bed sheets.

Cameron curses himself internally for being so insensitive and forces the thought out of his mind. His focus is on the here and now; on Kirsten, and stitching her back together, if need be.

 **Fluff you! Go fluff yourself! Fifty Shades of Fluff! Thanks so much for reading and I hope you liked it. Please be sure to fav and comment if you did! Or didn't! Whatever works.**


	2. Chapter 2

**You thought I was dark before? Honey, you ain't seen nothing yet! Enjoy...**

Luckily, one stitch was all they needed.

"Found the car parked outside of a rundown apartment building." Fisher told the group as they took their seats around the glass conference table, "All twelve of the girls were there, none sustaining any permanent injuries."

 _Except the ones you can't see_ , Cameron thought.

"They've been cleared by the hospital and have all returned home with their parents."

"Wonderful," Maggie said as she stood up.

Fisher recognized that as his dismissal, but hesitated to make a move for the door. His eyes landed on Camille, who was sitting closest to the exit. Just as he passed her, he leaned down so his head was almost level with hers.

"How's Kirsten?" he whispered.

Cameron didn't turn to face them, keeping his gaze locked on the table, but leaned in slightly.

"I don't know, really." Camille replied, "She's pretty much stayed in her room since we got home last night. I didn't ask her to come with, today. She deserves some space."

Fisher nodded in agreement before excusing himself and leaving.

Cameron clenched and unclenched his jaw, mulling this information over in his mind. He had wanted Kirsten to come home with him, last night. Not for _that_ reason. He just didn't want to let her out of his sight.

0o0o0o0o0

They sat together on that bathroom floor for at least an hour, only getting up when Ayo came in. She wanted to give Kirsten an examination, just to make sure there weren't any physical repercussions from the stitch.

Kirsten followed, Cameron's arm still wrapped tightly around her. She had stopped crying, but her eyes remained red and unfocused. Reluctantly, he let her go and took a seat against the wall of the med-bay. Ayo took her into another room, promising that they would only be a few minutes.

One of the other medical staff members approached him, maternal concern written all over their face.

"We'll get her cleaned up," she smiled stiffly, "and then Ayo can take her home."

Cameron narrowed his eyes at her. The smile on her face faltered.

"Or you can, that's fine." she said, backing away.

Cameron mirrored her smile and gave a nod of his head.

After a few more minutes, Ayo and Kirsten returned. The blonde was dressed in the sweater and jeans she had on that morning only now her hair hung loosely around her shoulders. Her skin was too pale, her posture too submissive. Cameron rose to his feet and reached out to touch her arm.

His heart sank when she flinched away from him. Dropping his hand, he turned to Ayo expectantly.

"Heart rate is slightly elevated, but nothing I can keep her overnight for. All she can do now is try to relax and get some rest."

"Thank you," Cameron and Kirsten said in unison- Kirsten's voice a whisper beneath his.

Ayo gave her a kind look before heading farther back into the med-bay. Rubbing the back of his neck, Cameron scrutinized the floor before finally looking at Kirsten.

"Listen," he sighed, "if you don't want to go home, you could stay at my place, tonight. Only if you want too, of course. I just thought maybe-"

"You heard Ayo." she snapped, suddenly, "I'm fine. And you're off the clock."

Leaving him stunned, she stormed swiftly out of the room. She had a few steps head start before he clicked out of his stupor and jogged after her.

"Wait, Kirsten," he said coming up beside her, "what do you mean I'm off the clock?"

Her feet hit the tile with unrelenting force.

"I mean we're done." she growled, "The stitch is over with. You don't have to keep me safe anymore. _I'm fine_."

For a brief moment, he didn't understand at all what she was saying. Then he recalled the disagreement they'd had over her protection a week earlier.

 _When you're in a stitch, waltzing around some dead person's memory, it is my job to keep you safe._

"Kirsten that isn't…" he froze but she kept walking, " _Kirsten_!"

She halted mid step but waited another moment before facing him. He shook his head.

"Don't do this." he pleaded, "Don't shut me out."

His eyes held hers, theirs souls searching each other's.

 _Let me in_ , his would say, _you don't have to face this on your own_.

Her stone gaze faltered and her lip trembled as if she were going to speak. He risked taking a step closer; encouraging her- _begging_ her to open up to him. Instead, she clenched her fists and he watched her close herself off behind cold copper eyes.

"Good night, Cameron." she said before turning on her heel and leaving him behind.

0o0o0o0o0

Any person with adequate social skills would have taken that as a clear sign to stay the hell away. Lucky for Kirsten, Cameron was a critically acclaimed nerd with next to no people skills. He'd gone straight to her house after work. The day had been especially long. Maggie grilled him about "the unpredictability of the exit passcodes" and that they "needed to take more precautions". This resulted in him and Linus working nonstop to try and configure some sort of shortcut passed the exit codes without jeopardizing the stitcher's mental stability. Their efforts turned up virtually nothing.

Camille had pulled him aside on his way out, saying she was going to spend the night with Linus. He was about to question why she was telling him this, but the sincerity in her face told him. She understood what he wanted to do- what he _needed_ to do- and for that he was grateful.

He was usually a by the book driver, but today he pushed the speed limit just a little. His skin was tingling with anxiety, his ears humming with daunting questions.

What if she didn't even let him in the house? What was he going to say if she did? How could she think she was just part of the job to him?

He huffed and slammed the car door shut. The gravel of her driveway shifted beneath his feet. Upon reaching the front door, his blood went cold and he let out a shaking breath. The last time he had been here, Marta had been alive, Kirsten had been in danger, and he'd been watching it all from the sidelines. He'd let Marta, a woman he'd promised he'd keep safe, deliver herself to her death.

 _What if I fail Kirsten?_

His gut twisted but he shook it off. Kirsten _was not_ Marta. Kirsten was alive and right now, whether she believed it or not, she needed him.

Taking in a deep breath to settle himself, Cameron raised his hand to knock on the door. His knuckles hit the wood four times, cutting through the silence of the afternoon like a blade. Floorboards creaked from somewhere inside the house but no one came to answer the door. Cameron ran an unsteady hand through his hair.

"Rapunzel?" he called, trying not to sound hopeful, "Rapunzel, open your door."

He may have been imagining things, but he was almost certain he heard a snort. Peeking through the door window, Cameron searched for the blonde or even her shadow- just _some_ sign that she was actually in there. Again he heard the shifting of feet on the old hardwood but saw nothing.

"It's unlocked," her voice rang from somewhere hidden.

This struck him as odd, considering Kirsten wasn't the most trusting person in the world, but at the moment he was just glad she hadn't turned him away. Stepping inside, he removed his jacket and shoes, placing them next to the worn sofa. He padded softly across the carpet of the living room, playing a desperate game of I Spy for Kirsten's presence.

"Pumpkin?" he said turning in circles.

A clear groan emanated from behind a closed door in the far back of the house. The corner of his lipped twitched momentarily, but he fought it off and followed the sound. Moving down the hallway, he passed what must have been Camille's room. A pink leopard print comforter, tons of lava lamps, and a life sized Michael Jackson cut out that made Cameron jump a little bit.

Before he could ask her to come out, or even check to see if the door was locked, it swung open. Kirsten stood mechanically in the doorway, hair tied back in an unruly bun. She wasn't in her pajamas, like Cameron had expected, but in fact still wearing the sweater and jeans she'd left the lab in last night.

Violet half-moons hung beneath her eyes, exaggerated by the contrast against her pale skin.

"I didn't sleep much, okay?" she said reading his thoughts, voice hoarse with irritation and exhaustion.

Cameron pressed his lips together in a line, too afraid of saying the wrong thing to speak. Kirsten stared at him impassively for a moment before sighing and shuffling back into her bedroom. He proceeded with caution in case of any hidden fire arms or booby-traps. She folded her legs beneath her on the side of the mattress and leaned against her head board. Giving her space, Cameron sat on the very edge, body turned sideways to look at her.

"Talk to me." he said calmly.

He skipped the introductory "you okay?" because he knew it was a moot point. She wasn't, the question was merely whether or not she would admit it out loud. Kirsten bit the inside of her cheek, head turned away toward the window.

"I don't know what's..." she said after a few moments, " _happening_ to me."

His brows knitted together in concern and confusion. She glanced briefly at him before returning her gaze to the glass.

"I think I'm feeling residual emotion from Jackson's memories," she spit his name out like poison, "the grief for his mother, the hatred for his step family, the… _hopelessness_ from those years he spent on his own."

Cameron listened avidly, always keeping his eyes on her face.

"What about the _other_ feelings?" he asked, remembering how distraught she'd been the previous day.

Kirsten moved her arms over her chest, covering herself live a shield.

"I can't really explain it," she said with a hollow voice, "but I feel like I'm fighting them off, somehow. Or at least I'm trying to."

She was silent again for a heartbeat before saying, "A few times I've been back in that basement. I can see how scared those poor girls are but I can't help them. Then this sick… _pleasure_ starts to creep its way in and I have to fight against it. I have to remember who I am, that I'm trying to save these girls."

She inhaled sharply like she wanted to speak again but stopped herself, shoulders sagging in defeat. Cameron sat rigid on the end of the bed, hanging onto every word she spoke.

"And?" he coaxed.

"It's like," she struggled, "my emotions are fighting against his, and then there's this moment of… _purgatory_ where I forget who I am or what I'm doing. I feel nothing. I _am_ nothing."

Cameron's fist balled into the bedsheets at that word. Kirsten was not nothing, far from it. The fact that for a moment she had felt different, no matter the reason, made him want to hurl something at the nearest wall.

"I know it'll pass with time," she said, bringing his mind back into focus, "but every time I try to think about something else, I feel myself being pulled back into that basement, see the fear on those girls' faces."

Finally, she turned her head and faced him. Her brown eyes were heavy and sad, but for the first time in what felt like an eternity, Cameron could read them.

 _Help me_ , they said, _I can't face this on my own_.

Swallowing hard, Cameron stood up and paced to the far side of the room, opposite the window. Kirsten watched as his shadow grew and morphed across the carpet into something deformed. A vision flashed in her mind, the memory of Ed searching beneath her bed for monsters.

Mentally shaking her head, she lifted her eyes to meet Cameron's again. The reserve in his gaze surprised her and she sat forward, supporting herself on her elbows, ready to listen to him intently.

"When I was eight," he began, forcing himself to look at her, "my parents hired a full-time nanny to take care of me; 'keep me out of trouble' as they liked to put it."

A ghost of a smile haunted his face but it vanished quickly. Kirsten smiled briefly, too, at the thought of a young, rebellious Cameron Goodkin, but furrowed her brows when his expression fell. She could tell he was fighting for the words and moved away from the head board toward the foot of the bed.

"Her name was Joanna." his throat felt tight, "The other servants didn't like her much, she was a little unorthodox, but I thought she was great. She let me watch PG-13 movies and she made up goofy songs to help me remember vocabulary words."

"What happened?" Kirsten's voice was uneven.

Cameron grimaced and couldn't hold her gaze anymore.

"One day over the summer, my parents gave everyone else the day off to enjoy some community event." he breathed, "I don't even remember what it was. Anyway, they remembered after the fact that they'd promised our neighbor that they'd come over for a while or something, so Joanna offered to stay with me at the house."

Kirsten's palms began to sweat, an uneasy feeling trickling down her spine. _No_ repeated in her mind like an endless prayer.

"I asked if we could watch a movie. She took me upstairs to my room and shut the door."

 _No, no, no, no._

"She closed up all of the windows and turned the light off. We'd done that on movie night, before; turned everything off so the only light was coming from the TV. I didn't think anything of it."

 _No, no, NO._

"Then she sat on the edge of my bed and started taking her pants off. I asked her why and she said everything was fine, she just needed my help."

"Cameron," Kirsten whispered, her eyes stinging.

He didn't look at her, but she could see every muscle in his body coil. She wanted to throw herself at him, hold him like he'd held her, but didn't.

"When she tried to get me to…" he hissed, "I got scared and started fighting her. She kept telling me she needed me and to stop struggling, but I didn't. Eventually I got loose and bolted for the door. "

 _Thank God_ , she thought naively.

"I started running along the banister, trying to get to the stairs, but she caught up to me and grabbed the back of my shirt. I was panicking, I just wanted to get away from her. Next thing I knew, I was climbing over the railing and woke up in the hospital two days later."

Kirsten sucked in a breath, "Did she…"

"My parents said that Joanna came screaming across the street to our neighbors' house. She told them I'd fallen and they rushed me to the ER." he finally turned around but didn't look at her, "I had a concussion and broke two of my ribs, one of which punctured my left lung."

"That's how you got that scar?" Kirsten said, no judgement in her voice at all.

"Yeah." he answered, "When I woke up, I told my parents what happened and I never saw Joanna again. Never had another nanny, either."

Silence spread over the room like a thick toxin and Cameron realized he was breathing a little heavier. Lifting his gaze, the expression on Kirsten's face shocked him to his core. Her eyes were brimming with tears and she was looking at him like he were going to collapse at any moment.

Sitting beside her on the bed, he collected her hands in his own. Relief tugged at his shoulders when she didn't pull away, instead shifted closer to him and intertwined their fingers.

"How did you…" her voice choked.

"Move on?" he said squeezing her hand.

She nodded.

"For a while, I wouldn't go in my bedroom," he pressed his forehead to hers, "wouldn't go upstairs, actually. And every time I saw a girl with long, wavy brown hair, I started to cry. But my parents had me see a therapist and they would sit and talk with me every day, just ask me how I was feeling and what I was thinking about. Eventually, I thought about Joanna less and less until I didn't think about her at all."

Kirsten swallowed this information, feeling the hot tears escape despite her efforts. Cameron unlocked one of his hands to brush them away.

"Kirsten," his fingers lingered on her cheek, "I'm always here for you, whether you want to talk or just be with someone. I'm here. You can't deal with this alone, and you don't have to."

He whispered the last half of the sentence. He could feel his throat starting to constrict and the sting behind his eyes. Kirsten enveloped him in a hug. The movement was a little awkward on her body, obviously because she didn't give very many- if any. But he accepted it gratefully, wrapping his arms around he lean frame, reveling in the warmth of her skin.

"Thank you," she said into his neck, her breath making him shiver.

He didn't speak, only kissed her hair and tightened his embrace. There was a tether between them, now, he could feel it. _Trust_. It was faint, but it held them together; and stitch by stitch, it was getting stronger.

 **So yeah, just another Cameron scar theory. Meh. Anyway, thank you so much for reading and I really hope you liked it. I've been stuck for some ideas lately, so if you have any prompts that you really want to read, please let me know!**


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